A Past Unwanted
by watchingpaintdry
Summary: She is the daughter of their enemy. Yet she saved Raph's life. Can they trust her? What will her father do when he discovers that they have taken her from him? In the end, she will have to choose which side to take. Which will it be?
1. Chapter 1

A Past Unwanted

Chapter One - The Nightwatcher

The curtains of the open window fluttered in the breeze.

She sat on her bed, arms resting on the windowsill, chin on her folded hands.

She was watching the sun set over the city, staining New York in the warm colors of autumn.

Reds, golds, yellows, oranges. The skyscrapers were painted in a wash of fire.

Pitch-black hair fell well down her back, pulled back into a thick braid that ended in a ring of some black stone, as equally dark as her hair. Her bangs framed her pale face, shielding her.

Her hands were thin, well boned, and stained with paint, ink, and graphite, the hands of an artist. The calluses on the palms, however, gave away her martial arts training.

Her body, thanks to her multiple arts, was well muscled. Sleek, lithe, powerful without anything extra.

Her most shocking feature, however, were her ice blue eyes. They pierced the soul and made others feel as though she was looking straight through them. At the moment, they were lit by the last remnants of the setting sun, making them look even more unreal.

The sun had sunk below the horizon when she heard the far off crash.

Starting, she turned to look out her window towards the end of the alleyway that fed onto her street. It dead-ended with the buildings next to and behind hers, creating a perfect place for someone to get cornered.

Through the quickly gathering darkness, her ice blue eyes flashed. She had seen a streak of metal.

Moving quickly, she leapt out onto fire escape, which ran up past her window. Grabbing the railing, she jumped over.

Landing lightly on her feet five stories below her bedroom window, she turned to the commotion at the end of the alley.

Ducking behind a trash bin, she looked out on the sight before her.

A group of thugs were fighting a figure completely encased in metal and leather. The figure's helmet had two lights on the sides, supposedly so he could see.

The thugs weren't doing so well. Scratch that. They were getting their asses handed to them.

The figure, The Nightwatcher, as she had seen him named in the papers, stood victorious, the thugs all running for cover.

She turned, fully intending to go back to her window before he saw her, but the tell tale click of metal made her freeze.

'Oh god' was her only thought as she turned to see one of the thugs who had managed to scramble away relatively unscathed. He held, in his hands, a small handgun.

Eyes widened in shock and alarm, a finger pulled back on a trigger, and all hell broke loose.

Three shots split the otherwise tranquil New York air, causing several flocks of pigeons to take flight in alarm.


	2. Chapter 2

A Past Unwanted

Chapter Two – Of Blood and Blonds

He could move his fingers, which was good.

Toes, check.

Arms and legs: minimal response, but still there.

Raph kept his eyes closed, sensing his surroundings. There was a presence in the room with him. An unfamiliar presence.

He furrowed his brow, thinking. The last thing he remembered was the sound of the gunshot. No…There was more.

The girl, she had been there the whole time, but he had never sensed her. That in itself was weird.

What had happened? There was one shot from the thug, but three overall. So where did the other two come from and what was he doing in a bed if he was dead from a gunshot wound?

Slowly, carefully, Raph opened his eyes.

He was looking up at a white, painted stucco ceiling. He blinked several times, adjusting to the light.

Shifting, he turned his head, trying to sit up, but wincing as pain suddenly lanced through his side from his shoulder.

A hand on his shoulder both startled and steadied him and Raph suddenly found himself looking into the most piercing ice blue eyes he had ever seen.

The girl sitting next to the bed had jet black hair that he was almost positive was dyed, tied back in a thick braid down her back, ending in a ring of black stone. Her pale skin contrasted with her hair, but just made her eyes stand out even more.

"Lay back down," said the girl firmly. "You've taken a bad hit, it'll take a while to heal."

Confused, but in to much pain to care, Raph complied, watching the girl as she stood from her chair to cross the room, disappearing through a door to reappear with a first aid kit in her hands.

"I'm going to pull back the blanket and redress you're wounds," she said simply, eyes on her work. " I may have to move you, so be forewarned."

Raph nodded, now propped up against several pillows so that he could better see his surroundings.

The girl set to works, removing the old bandages to redress the wound and re-wrap it.

It was a nasty wound, but relatively small.

"You're lucky that he was such a lousy shot with such a lousy gun, or you would be dead." Said the girl, eyes still on her hands.

Raph frowned. Now that he was listening carefully, he could hear something familiar in her voice under the Brooklyn accent.

She finally raised her eyes to his; the supplies now back in the first aid kit.

"You'll stay here until you heal, then you can go home." She said.

He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.

"How do you expect to get anywhere in your condition? Even if someone could come get you, you're in no shape to be moved at all. I don't want that wound re-opening." She said the words with a finality that told him not to argue.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he said, slightly startled at how hoarse his voice sounded. She nodded.

"I'll get you something. In the meantime, try not to move to much." She stood once more to leave, the first aid kit in her hands.

"Thank you." He managed.

She paused at the door, facing away from him.

"You're welcome." She said, before slipping out the door.

About twenty minutes later, the delicious smells of food came wafting in to the injured turtle.

Finding himself drooling, Raph suppressed a grin as the girl came back through the door, a tray in her hands.

Handing it to him, she proceeded to sit back down with a soft sigh, watching the hungry teenager before her begin to eat with gusto.

"What happened?" Raph asked between mouthfuls.

"The thug who had the gun got a shot off before I nailed 'im." The girl said.

Raph paused, startled.

"You nailed him?" he asked, incredulous.

A smirk crossed the girls face. A fraction of a second later the girl had a gun in her hands. Raph nearly choked on his food.

The girl chuckled.

"My dad got me this little beauty for my birthday. It's a CZ-75. Very nice gun, and I know how to handle it." She said matter-o-factly.

"That's the main reason that the thug who shot you is in the hospital, minus his thumbs." She said coolly.

Raph blinked at her. Something had changed. She was now looking at the floor, the gun still held in her hands.

"I…I don't like killing. If I can avoid it, then I'll do everything in my power to do so."

Raph looked at her, every last scrap of food gone from the tray.

The girl suddenly looked up.

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm some kind of nutcase. Forgive me for startling you." She said, stowing the gun away.

"No," said Raph. "I understand. Thank you."

The girl smiled and reached to take the tray before standing and walking towards the door.

"Get some sleep. You must be exhausted and the sun will rise soon." She said.

"Raphael." He said suddenly.

She paused to look back at him, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm Raphael, you can call me Raph."

"Roxanne." She said simply. "Call me Roxie."


	3. Chapter 3

A Past Unwanted

Chapter Three – Watching and Waiting

Raph's eyes fluttered open to look at the wall. He grimaced, the pain in his shoulder having intensified as the painkillers wore off.

Sitting up slowly, Raph looked around the room, the harsh afternoon light softened by the curtains pulled closed across the windows.

Slowly, carefully, he was able to get out of bed, steadying himself against the side table. Limping across the room, his left arm held tightly across his stomach, Raph was able to get the door open and, using the wall for support, made his way down the hall.

Now, Raph had no idea where he was going, having never left the room he was confined to as his injuries healed. So he could only hope he was going in the right direction.

Reaching a door, he cautiously pushed it open, looking in at a bedroom. Raph blinked. The room was painted a medium blue, with white trim and ceiling. The tall four- poster twin sized bed had dusty green curtains hanging from it. The wood of the bed was stained a dark red, the color of congealed blood, streaks of black grain making the wood appear even darker. The window was dark, the blinds closed, and the whole room was dingy, as though nobody had been there in a long time. However, the general absence of dust in the room contradicted that fact, showing that someone did care, even if just a little bit.

Stepping farther into the room, Raph noted a single bookcase against one wall, a dresser, as tall as the ceiling and the same color as the bed, stood against another. Next to the bed was a side table; it's white wash and blue top in contrast to the room.

Things were littered around the room. Leather and cloth covered boxes were stacked all around, papers dominated all surfaces, and nick-knacks of all shapes and sizes were everywhere.

Coming to the center of the relatively small room, Raph saw that, laying on the bed, was a picture album, resting face down, it's covers splayed out and pages rumpled underneath it, as though someone had thrown it there.

Reaching out, Raph hesitated for a moment, before picking up the album. The black leather of the cover was well worn and the label, in it's little silver frame on the front, read 'Roxanne' in gold print.

Hesitantly, Raph opened the book.

His mouth went dry as his eyes scanned the page, his breath hitching in his throat. His hands began to tremble, his shock hitting him with such force that he slumped to the ground.

"I dye it, you know." Came a calm voice from the doorway.

Raph jerked around, brown eyes locking with ice blue ones. The album hit the floor with a dull thud as Raph tried to push himself to his feet.

"You stay away from me." He snarled, trembling.

Roxie didn't reply, she simply stood there, looking at him with her sad, ice blue eyes.

"She said I looked to much like him." She said quietly, not looking at Raph anymore, but instead at the book, now lying on the floor. Her hand tightened on the doorframe as she lowered her gaze, her black hair falling to hide her eyes.

"No matter what I did. Even after I dyed my hair, it was useless. She still saw him in my eyes. I couldn't do anything." She was trembling now, shaking from head to foot, her knuckles white against the doorframe.

Raph looked at her, confusion written in every line of his expression.

Roxie looked up, her steady gaze locking with Raph's, holding him in place.

"I'm not like him." She said, the glare in her eyes returning. "I never want to be anything like him and I would kill myself rather than join him."

"You're his daughter…" Raph began, but she cut him off.

"Did you choose your father?" she asked simply, her gaze piercing. Walking across the room, she bent down to take hold of the album, lifting it to open it to the first page, on which was a single picture.

The picture was of a hospital room, a huge man with platinum blond hair and piercing blue eyes held a tiny infant in his arms, her hair and eyes matching his. The man had a huge purple dragon tattoo running down and around his left arm, which he cradled his daughter in. Her gaze was clear as she reached for him, one hand clasped around the end of his ponytail, a smile on her tiny face.

Under the picture was written the caption: "Roxanne and Hun, Day one".

"I'm still the same girl who saved you." She said quietly, snapping the album shut, before throwing it into a corner.

"Because of him I could never go to school, I never had any friends. My mother left because of that man. Because her child looked to much like a murderer." Roxie was facing away from Raph now, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Suddenly, a sigh escaped her mouth and her whole body seemed to deflate, her shoulders slumping and her hands falling, limp, at her sides.

"You can leave if you want, I won't stop you." She said heavily, not looking at him.

"Actually," said Raph, and he could have sworn that he saw her head perk up at the sound of his voice. "I just wanted some pain-killers."

"Aspirin or Tylenol?" Roxie asked, turning to smile at him, and Raph could tell that she was doing her utmost to keep the glee and giddy-ness out of her voice.

"Whatever works." Came the reply.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're like a Chinese Food junky." Said Raph, aghast, as Roxie tucked whole-heartedly into her chow-mien.

She looked up, her chopsticks still feeding noodles into her mouth, before closing her mouth to chew.

"Do you want that?" she asked, her mouth full, pointing to his last pot-sticker with her chopsticks.

"No." he said, a look of disgust on his face as she skewered the unfortunate dumpling and shoved it into her mouth.

"How do you eat so much?" he asked, watching her down another bowl of rice and mushu pork all in one go.

Roxie shrugged, her mouth still full.

Raph sighed, before turning the TV on, flipping through channels until he landed on a western movie.

The two watched in silence, except for the sounds of Roxie eating.

Roxie had changed in the past few weeks. Her hair had reverted back to its natural white blonde color and she seemed to be laughing more. She and Raph stayed up late, talking, laughing, cracking jokes, and watching movies.

Roxie had introduced Raph to her Music collection, which was quite extensive, and Raph had introduced Roxie to baseball, which she highly enjoyed.

The two had hit it off very well, so to speak. Except that Raph couldn't stand Roxie's addiction to Chinese food and Roxie detested Raph's refusal to bathe on a regular bases.

The doorbell rang, and Roxie swallowed her food while Raph hid, before walking to the door and opening it, one of her Sais hidden behind her back.

"Yes?" she asked.

A familiar voice wafted in to Raph, who was hiding behind the couch.

"Oh crap." He whispered under his breath.

Casey Jones stood in the doorway, scratching his head.

"Uh, yeah, um, I though one of my friends was here, but I guess not, sorry. Okay, bye." He said sheepishly, turning and walking away.

Roxie closed the door, then turned back to Raph, who was standing behind her now, and raised an eyebrow.

"And that was?"

"Casey."

"Jones?"

"Have I told you of another Casey?"

"No."

"Then it's that one."

"I'm tired."

"You just ate."

"So?"

"Never mind," said Raph, rolling his eyes.

"Can I crash with you again?" Roxie asked.

She really didn't need to ask anymore.

Roxie suffered from chronic nightmares, and would wake up screaming on a regular bases, until she found that curling up against Raph's hard shell was comforting enough to keep the bad dreams away.

Since then, she had asked a couple of times to crash with him, but she ordinarily just crawled into bed with him straight off.

Not that he didn't mind, her waking up usually woke him up, which was bad for a healing turtle who needed his sleep.

Anyway, regardless, they both found the presence of another person, something they had never had before, extremely comforting.

"Sure," said Raph, nodding his head.

-

Roxie's eye flew open to look into Raph's.

It was dark, and she knew that what she had heard wasn't the neighbors cat.

Raph nodded in acknowledgment. He had heard it too.

Roxie slipped from under the covers, her slippered feet hitting the floor silently, her Sais cool and heavy in her experienced grip.

The door was slightly ajar, and the two slipped through it without a sound.

"Mikey," hissed a low whisper from the living room. "Shut up."

A low thwack and a muffled "Ow!" followed, and Roxie turned to see Raph roll his eyes.

Reaching for the wall, he turned on the light.

The three turtles, giant rat, man and woman standing in the center of the room froze, before turning to stare at the two people leaning against each other in the doorway to the hall.

"Raph!" the three brothers rushed forward, the others right behind them.

There was much hugging and gooing and gaaing and oohing and ahing going on, while Roxie, unnoticed, moved to one of the windows.

"Raph," she said softly. He turned, walking over to her, not liking her tone.

"What?"

"They were seen."

-

The glass of many of the windows shattered, the room quickly filling with Foot Ninja, surrounding the small group in the middle of the room.

"What the hell is this?" shouted Casey, his weapons clattering to the ground as they were yanked away from him.

Karai stepped from the crowd of ninja and Roxie stepped up to meet her, Raph on her heels.

"Get out," snarled the younger girl, glaring up at the taller ninja, her Sais still at her sides.

"We have simply come here in answer to an alarm, their capture is a coincidence." Snapped Karai, ignoring her.

Roxie snarled, an actual, animalistic sound, deep in her throat. Several heads turned in alarm at the sound, but Karai's head snapped around the quickest.

"You forget yourself, Ninja. This is my territory, and I say that I have everything under control. You are to leave the premises immediately, or I will be forced to take disciplinary action."

Raph remained silent, stoic, a green statue at Roxie's elbow, his hands on his own sais, ready to spring into action, every single muscle straining.

Karai regarded the younger woman.

"You hold no jurisdiction…" she began.

"On the contrary, I hold far more power than you. Saki never appointed you the next Head, therefore you are simply acting in his stead, a surrogate, a stand in, illegitimate."

"When have you ever warranted the masters approval?" snarled Karai.

"When have you not failed in your service?" Roxie shot back, equally as vicious.

Karai set her jaw, wanting to be stubborn.

"Do not force my hand…" she began.

"NO! You insolent fool, do not force mine! You apparently forget whom you are speaking to! I am your superior, never forget that! And I am giving you a direct order! Withdraw! Leave the premises before I must force you out! NOW! Karai!" Yelled Roxie, her ice-blue eyes boring into those of the older woman.

Karai stepped back, bowing stiffly.

"As you wish, My Lady." She said, scorn in her voice.

She and the foot ninja disappeared.

Roxie slumped back against Raph, who caught her and held her close.

"What now?" he asked into her hair.

"I have to leave," she said simply, all life gone from her voice.

"I have to disappear, vanish completely." There was sadness in her voice.

"I knew that I had to stick up for you and your family. I don't like choosing sides, Raph. But I did. I made my choice." Roxie looked up at Raph.

"And I know it was the right one."


End file.
